I stood, camera in hand, waiting my turn at a local bakery where a mouthwatering array of pastries and cakes would tempt the most ardent dieter to fall off the wagon. Fall? Make that, leap off the wagon. Happily. Diet schmiet! Colorful cartoon-character cupcakes, with candy eyes focused on elegant petits fours on dainty doilies, shared prime shelf real estate with brash Italian pastries stuffed with cream cheeses. When the counter woman asked, "May I help you?" I explained that I was a photographer and would like to take some pictures of the goodies. I expected a quick, "Sure, go ahead." But instead she looked confused, and said she'd have to ask the manager in the back room. "Ask him if I can set up a time to take some photos of someone decorating a cake, too, please." The answer was no. No, I couldn't take any photos in the shop, nor of someone decorating a cake. And no, I will not buy anything from your bakery eit
Life is a series of snapshots meant to be recorded in words. A writer and photographer shares hers.